


Scars

by Romantik_Kun



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Albert Wesker Lives, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Jack Krauser Lives, M/M, Moving On, One Shot, Romance, Short & Sweet, Small mention of blood, love making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 01:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11589885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantik_Kun/pseuds/Romantik_Kun
Summary: Nine years have passed since Wesker's last battle but the consequences of his defeat still linger. Forced into hiding, he and Krauser have been enjoying a peaceful life together. Both men have been thinking about what to do next and it would seem they have finally reached a decision.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> *Cough* *cough* So I made this. I'm pretty happy with the end product BUT ... but. I'm super duper happy with the "Romantic" scene. *Wink* *wink* There isn't enough Wesker/Krauser fics out there and so I hope you'll enjoy the fruit of my labor. Behold !

Thunder boomed loudly, waking Krauser up. He could hear rain relentlessly hammering the roof as he shook the drowsiness away. Another thunder strike briefly illuminated the room, that’s when he noticed he was alone in the large bed. During the first few seconds he couldn’t figure out why but upon reflection he came to the conclusion the storm had woke Wesker up same as him. Slightly worried about the other man, Jack got up and walked out the room. Nine years had passed since Wesker had last battled Chris back in Africa but his injuries had been severe and the former STARS captain was still in poor shape. He was stubborn however, and insisted he didn’t need help getting around the house, which wasn’t always true.

Krauser first visited the bathroom, then the kitchen and finally the study, but Wesker was nowhere to be found. At this point the only places he had not searched were the living room and the basement, where they kept all their “work” related material. That included the older blond medical artillery and since the living room was obviously empty the mercenary made his way down there.

He was greeted by a somewhat gruesome sight, unfortunately he was used to it by now. Wesker was sitting under the neon’s light, operating his own arm. In a small pool of his own blood he proceeded to tie ligaments together all the while monitoring his own pulse and blood loss. The injured man had noticed Krauser standing in the doorway but didn’t speak, he knew the ex-soldier disapproved of such interventions.

“You should have woke me up.” He sighed and stepped up to his partner. “How did you even get down here?” The question seemed to tick Wesker off.

“I’m not some feeble old man, if you believe such a slight handicap is going to stop me from going down a few stairs, you’re sorely mistaking.” He spoke in his usual, cold, tone. “You’re blocking the light.” 

Indeed, ever since his last battle, the former Umbrella’s operative had been forced to use a wheelchair, then crutches and now a cane. His lower half had suffered the most damage but his arms weren’t in any better shape at first. Even if his left hand had recovered completely now he had noticed a drop in its dexterity, hence the nightly surgical intervention. He simply couldn’t stand the idea of being perceived has weak. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just…” Krauser spoke while stepping aside. Making sure he wasn’t hindering the light anymore. “I’m worried you’ll only make things worse if you keep…”

“I know what I’m doing.” Wesker quickly interrupted. He was obviously in no mood to talk, the only sensible thing left to do was leave him alone. And so the mercenary regretfully took his leave, looking behind him before going up the stairs.

Upstairs the sound of tree branches whipping against the windows could still be heard. The storm was still beating up the earth. The night was still young but Krauser knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, and so he didn’t bother returning to their bedroom. He thought back about when he first met Wesker. The sunglasses wearing man had patched his arm up and gave him back his life as soldier. Only, he was faster and stronger this time around, and so pledging his loyal service to his savior had been an easy decision to make. But it was the second time around, when Wesker came to retrieve him after his mission in Spain had ended in failure that Krauser understood just how special the arrogant blond had become to him. The life of a soldier is one of sacrifice, and so he assumed that his boss would leave him behind should he fail in bringing back the sample. Not only did Wesker went out of his way to bring him back, he had also nursed him back to health. Feelings of deep respect bloomed into love, and soon it was his turn to take care of the older man. Only the latter systematically refused to let Krauser take care of him.

His train of thought ended when he heard his beloved slowly making his way up the stairs. Of course he wanted to go and help but knew that would only serve to anger his lover. Indeed, during one eventful night Wesker had actually agree to enter a relationship with his henchman. Krauser didn’t know if he was loved the way he loved but he didn’t care, that was more than enough for him. The older blond finally arrived upstairs, panting slightly. He grunted when he remembered how easy climbing a bunch of pathetic stairs was supposed to be. Krauser was sitting on the sofa, glancing over from times to times, making sure everything was okay. A bandage now adorned Wesker’s arm. The latter noticed how his boyfriend kept tabs on his progress, as subtly as possible, trying his best not to anger him. The gesture softened his hard expression, he knew he had been harsh earlier. Making his way to the sofa, he finally crashed next to the burly blond.  
“The storm didn’t wake me up,” he started, “The pain did.” Silence fell between the two men. “After that, I started thinking about unnecessary things, I couldn’t stand still and so I decided to do something productive instead of wasting time.” That was very much like him.  
“What did you think about?” Krauser inquired. Unsure if it was out of place.

Wesker didn’t answer immediately, he stood silent for what seemed like a minute or so. “I kept pondering what exactly we’re going to do next. The more I think about it the more it becomes evident. I’ll never be able to fight like before.” A pained expression twisted Krauser’s face, the older blond’s stayed unreadable. “But amongst all possible outcome, one in particular frightened me. I kept thinking that it was okay. That I didn’t need to fight anymore. That we could just stay the way we are.” 

The younger man looked surprise, admittedly he had thought about it too. But he never imagined his boss could ever feel as he did. 

“Fighting, plotting, lie and deceive. Those are the things I’m good at.” Wesker paused. “I have remotely no idea how to live a normal life, if it is even possible that is.” He brushed a hand in his hair. “Everyone believes we are dead, it might just be the perfect opportunity to let things go…I think I’ve lost. For real this time.” He looked at Krauser with a pained smirk. He didn’t have his signature sunglasses on and so his expression was easier to read.

“I think so too.” The mercenary admitted, he was content just being by his lover’s side. Fighting wasn’t necessary anymore. “I’m the same, war was my only reason to live. Until I met you.” The renewed confession brought a smile to Wesker’s lips. It was one of those rare sincere ones.

“Let’s go back to bed, let’s leave the uncertainties for tomorrow. Right now, I feel like being spoiled.” The honesty in his statement surprised both of them who let loose a chuckle. Krauser got up and lifted his lover in his strong arms. “Any objections?” Wesker shook his head before burying it in is boyfriend’s neck. Leaving behind the dejected cane.

\--

Back in the bedroom, both men were now laying down next to each other. The tip of their noses brushing gently as they looked into one another’s eyes. They got closer and closer, their lips touched before locking softly into a kiss. Their torso pinned together, only kept apart by their shirts. Krauser pushed Wesker carefully, forcing him on his back before getting on top of him. He broke the kiss and proceeded to take his shirt off. Countless scars adorned his muscular shape. With his bandaged hand Wesker traced the more visible ones. It led him to the prominent scars across Krauser’s face. His finger lingered on his mate’s lips, reinitiating the kiss. Their tongues met inside Wesker’s mouth, while that happened the younger man lifted his superior’s shirt, uncovering a large injury that had yet to fully heal. With his free hand he pinched one of Wesker’s nipples, teasing him. The older man grunted, arching his back slightly. He continued caressing the little lump of flesh with his thumb, further enticing his partner. Their lips parted. Krauser’s tongue came down to his boyfriend’s neck, he sucked on the skin there, leaving red marks. He stopped a moment, grabbing a hold of Wesker’s shirt. The cloth was resting above the man’s pectorals.  
“Bite on this.” He said, gently forcing the textile into his partner’s mouth, muffling a surprised gasp.

He proceeded to tease both nipples this time, sucking gently on one while drawing circles on the other. His free hand found its way down to his mate’s erection, which he grabbed firmly, jerking him off. The moans and grunts escaping the ex-STARS captain quieted by the piece of fabric. When he felt his partner coming close to orgasm Krauser pressed a hand the latter’s mouth, silencing a loud moan. Wesker jolted before slowly calming down, still held now by the other man.  
Normally that would have been it, Wesker came, Krauser went to take care of himself in the bathroom and when he came back the older man was already sleeping soundly. And so the younger man let go before planting a kiss on his partner’s forehead. Preparing to leave. But he was stopped by a soft whimper. He turned around to see what that was about and saw Wesker sat up in bed.

“We’re not done… come here.” The older man was obviously embarrassed.

Krauser sat down on the edge of the bed and before he could utter a word Wesker made his way between the other man’s legs. He was now kneeling on the ground, facing Krauser’s erection. 

“Don’t push yourself.” Was what the younger man wanted to say but before he could finish, his lover had already freed his throbbing manhood from the containment of his pants. Wesker brought his lips to the tip hesitantly opening his mouth. He looked at Krauser who reassured him by stroking his hair. Coincidently the hand on his head happened to push him gently toward the hard member. He parted his lips and took the tip into his mouth, sucking on it lovingly. He settled into a rhythm and bit by bit took more and more of his lover’s erection into his mouth. He worked around the shaft with his tongue, glancing at Krauser in an attempt to evaluate his performance. He could feel the member throb and that’s when Krauser yanked it of his mouth. Panting, he could feel a warm liquid spray on his face.

He was lifted off the ground and brought to the bathroom where he and Krauser enjoy a hot shower. He clinged onto his boyfriend and let him wash the mess off his face. With time to think he looked once more at Krauser’s body and then his. They were both covered in scars, betraying a dangerous lifestyle. Although now it seemed the wind had shifted, maybe now those old wounds would finally heal.


End file.
